Chapter 40
ISAK
A bird chirping outside wakes me up. I flop out a hand to a cold, empty mattress.
No Lachlan. I secretly hoped he’d crash here and we’d have to figure a way to sneak him out in the morning—although my mom would likely be cool about it. Oh well. Nice memories. A queen-size bed and room to explore was so much more comfortable than a supply closet or a ditch under an overpass.
I roll onto my side and pick up my phone. It lights up, and I immediately see a text from Lachlan.
BOYFRIEND
You’re cute when you sleep.
I wanted to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to wake you.
Have to leave early to go to work.
I can’t keep the grin off my face as I stare at the screen. I scramble out of bed, do my business in the bathroom, and float into the kitchen.
Mom glances up at me as I pull out a bowl and cereal from the cabinet. “Hey,” she says.
“Hi.” I yawn.
“Did you have a friend over last night?”
Oh shit. She heard something—although I’m positive we were done with any naked times before she got home. I nod. “Lachlan.”
Mom does a double take. “Lachlan, as in the boy next door?”
I smile, thinking of him. He makes me feel all warm inside. “That’s the one.”
“Okay.”
My heart starts beating rapidly, but he said I could tell. And I’m bursting. So I blurt out, “I’m dating him. It’s new. And it’s a secret from his family and everyone else. He said it was okay if you knew.”
“Oh, honey.” A mix of emotions crosses her face. Happiness, worry, confusion, pride, hope. Yeah, that’s about what I’m feeling.
“Can he come over more, when his family is being sucky?”
“Of course. He could move in, if it gets to be too much. Get him out of that place.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. What goes on in that house is horrible, and he doesn’t deserve to be there. He can stay here if it’s safer for him.”
I hug her tight. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Schmoopy. I’m glad you got the guy.”
“I’m going to miss you when I go to college.”
She boops my nose. “I know. I’m going to miss you, too.”
At school, things are … different, to say the least. For starters, Lachlan and I have started trading off who brings the other a sandwich—either going off campus to grab them at lunchtime or getting them before school. Which means he eats with me and my friends instead of his.
As Lach and I eat our sandwiches from a deli nearby (my treat today), Malik rehashes Saturday’s rehearsal.
Zanita nods, chewing a potato chip. “We’re making good progress. Almost everyone is off book.”
“I’ll be off book soon,” Lach says. He and I have the most lines, so it’s taking us longer to memorize everything. Our deadline is next week.
“Yeah, me, too,” I say.
“When are we going to finalize makeup designs?” Jody asks, Hawaiian shirt extra obnoxious today.
“I think next week,” Malik says. “And the sets are going to be done about that time.”
“Awesome,” Lachlan says. “I like my costume.”
“For sure. I like mine, I mean. And yours,” I say.
I redden. Our costumes were made by a local costume maker, and they’re postapocalyptic/futuristic and steampunk.
I’m wearing a ripped red T-shirt and motorcycle jeans for most of the show.
Lachlan has a black jacket with a lot of straps and gray jeans, and he looks like a snack.
We both have hats and goggles and boots and other cool stuff that fits the vibe.
Lachlan looks better and better onstage. When he sings, I can’t help wanting to stop and listen to him belt it out. I meant it when I told him I want to record him so I can listen to him again and again.
“Does everyone have their costume?” Zanita asks.
“Yeah, I think so,” Malik says, wiping a crumb off her face. She smiles at him gratefully.
“It’s coming together,” I say.
Jody nods. “For a while there, it felt like the performance wasn’t getting any better and it wasn’t going to be ready to show to anyone.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “When the dances are separate from the songs and the lines, it feels like a mess.”
“It’s going better now,” Zanita says.
I nod. “Yeah. And even if it’s going badly, I’d rather be there than anywhere else.”
“Me, too,” Lachlan says. “I wish I’d been involved in drama earlier.”
I forget, sometimes, that the impetus for him doing the musical was to have a reason to be out of his house. It’s awesome that he’s come to love doing it for its own sake.
None of my friends comment on Lach’s presence on Monday or Tuesday, but on Wednesday, he leaves halfway through lunch for some student government meeting, and Jody and Zanita turn to me, questions in their eyes.
“Sooo,” Zanita starts, “Lachlan’s hanging out with you a lot.”
“Right. What’s this all about? Why is he eating lunch with us every day now?” Jody asks.
“Does he know about your crush on him?” Zanita raises a dark eyebrow.
I feel my cheeks heat. “Oh my god, you guys. He’s my neighbor. He’s spending time with me for the show.”
The first statement is true. The second … not so much.
Zanita eyes me skeptically. “Uh-huh. So all of this is for you to bond with him?”
I shrug. “Something like that.”
“It would be cool if you guys could be together for real. You have terrific chemistry onstage,” she says. “And when you kiss?” She fans herself. “Ooh, that’s hot.”
I give her an enigmatic grin.
On Wednesday evening, I’m waiting for Lachlan so we can go on our date. He asked me out, but his car is still in the shop, although it’s supposed to be done next week. It reminds me of when he asked his sophomore-year girlfriend to ask him to go to prom.
Mom eyes me as I pace around the living room. I showered and shaved after school and am wearing my best shirt. “Is Lachlan coming over anytime soon, or are you just trying to wear a rut in the floor?”
“A rut, definitely.”
I see movement outside the window, and my heartbeat ratchets up. He’s here.
The doorbell rings, and I try to play it cool … but fail, whipping the door open. Lachlan is on my doorstep, looking too cute for words. He’s freshly showered and smells like he’s stepped out of a commercial for shampoo and sex.
Fuck. I cannot deal with this. Wet golden hair slicked back, a chambray shirt, and navy cords with a thick leather belt. I want to wrap my arms and legs around him like I have tentacles and he’s my prey. I’m a mess about this guy.
“Hey,” he says with a smile. He almost moves to kiss me, but seems to think better of it. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” I pat down my pockets for my phone, keys, and wallet. “I’m good to go.”
Lachlan calls over my shoulder. “Hey, Ms. Hammond.”
“Hi, Lachlan. And it’s Rochelle, please. You boys don’t stay out too late, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We go out to my truck, and I glitch for a moment. Do I open the door for him? How do I play this?
I resolve my dilemma by beeping the locks, and since he gets to the vehicle before me, that’s enough.
Okay.
Deep breaths.
Play it cool.
You’re just going out with your secret boyfriend, in public, for an actual date.
No big deal.
“So, where are we going?”
“Here,” he says. He plugs in his phone and an address on the GPS. “We’re going to drive into Santa Barbara for dinner. That work?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and this is my treat, and I can pay for gas.”
He’s offered to pay for gas a few times while I’ve been driving him back and forth to school, but I never let him. I’d be going to the same place anyway. But I’ll let him treat me tonight. I think it matters to him.
We drive about half an hour down the coast, talking and listening to music. Spending time with Lachlan is the easiest thing I’ve ever done—we click back into place as easily as we did in elementary school. Only now, we also kiss.
“I love being so close to the water,” Lach muses as we travel down PCH.
“I like looking at it, but I almost never stop to go on the sand,” I say.
“Then we should do that. Take a walk on the beach.”
I glance over at him. “Okay, yeah.”
“But not right now. We have plans.”
We get into northern Santa Barbara, and the voice on the GPS navigates me off the freeway and into an area with a bunch of restaurants and bars. I find a place to park, and when we step out, Lachlan comes over to my side of the car and takes my hand.
My heart starts doing cartwheels. Oh my god, he’s holding my hand in public.
But we’re in a big city thirty miles from home. No one we know is going to be here, so we can be out and ourselves. It’s even better than being onstage, because we can really be ourselves, not made-up characters.
Lachlan navigates me to a restaurant. “I thought we’d have normal food today rather than sandwiches.”
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat and looking around. The restaurant has white tablecloths, although it’s not super fancy.
I have a moment of nerves, because I’ve never been on a date like this before. Just me and a guy I like—my boyfriend—having dinner. How do I act? What do I do?
Except … with Lachlan, everything is easy.
The waiter winks at us when we sit, and I realize he’s queer, too.
Then I look around and realize there are tiny rainbow flag stickers near the cash register and in several other places in the restaurant.
I relax a bit. All the items on the menu sound like things I’d want to eat, and the prices are normal, not over-the-top expensive.
“This okay?” Lachlan bites his lip.
I want to be the one doing that. “More than.” I smile big at him. “It’s super cool.”
We settle in to a great meal.
Afterward, Lachlan fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt as we walk out into the balmy evening.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“We have school in the morning, but there’s an eighteen-and-over club a block away. Do you want to go? Even if we have to leave early?”
“And dance with you?”
“Yeah.” He coughs. “It’s Pride night.”
I melt into him, my head on his shoulder and my arm around his waist. “Lead on.”
“Okay, baby.” He kisses the top of my head. Whenever he calls me baby, I want to hold him like I’m a koala and he’s a tree.
We walk to the club, which is blasting music I don’t recognize but like immediately. Lachlan pays the cover charge, and we walk in holding hands.
Inside, I look around and feel at home. There are guys in miniskirts and sparkly eye shadow and go-go dancers in tight leather shorts. All the bartenders are wearing harnesses. People are dancing very close.
“Fuck, this is sexy,” I shout in Lachlan’s ear.
“I know, right?” His eyes are as wide as mine. He pulls me onto the dance floor. And as the music plays and the lights flash and people gyrate all around us, Lachlan kisses me slow and long.
In public.
Claiming me for all to see.
He tastes like the chocolate we had for dessert, and everything about the moment is absolute heaven. I wish the world were like this everywhere, not just in certain pockets, but I’ll take what I can get.
We’re too young to drink—they carded us and marked black X’s on the backs of our hands—and I didn’t bring my vape with me.
I’ve been using it less these days anyway.
Plus, we have to be at school in the morning.
So we drink sodas and dance and take a ton of selfies and leave at ten and are home by eleven.
“Best date ever,” I tell Lachlan as we walk up to my house. I’m not sure his family even realized he went somewhere.
Except we hear a shout as we get to my front door. A female voice. “Lachlan Jamieson Doyle, where the hell have you been?”
Lachlan freezes, his easy smile turning into a wince.
“You don’t have to put up with that,” I whisper. “You’re an adult.”
“So what? I don’t have enough money to get my own place, and I need to finish high school. I want my diploma. I’ve worked hard for it.”
“Maybe you can move in with us,” I blurt.
He shakes his head. “My uncle would hit the roof.”
“Still.” I sigh. “I don’t want to nag you. I just want you to remember that you’re not alone, okay? I’m your … I’m your boyfriend. And I’ll support you no matter what. And so will my mom.”
He smiles. Then winces when the yelling comes again. “Dammit.”
For years, I’ve been looking the other way, pretending things really weren’t so bad.
I’m done.
“I’ve heard your family fighting my entire life. And I always thought it was none of my business,” I say.
His eyes are harsh. “That’s because it isn’t.”
“At some point, though, it crosses the line. From minding my own business to sitting idly by.”
“There’s no fixing my family,” he says bleakly. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Let me come with you.”
Lachlan shakes his head. “I don’t want you to witness whatever they’re going to say.”
I put a hand on my hip. “Too late. Let me come over and see if I can help. We can say we were doing something for the show. Maybe I can defuse the situation.”
He looks wary but nods. “Okay.”